


i guess this could be worse

by apricae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Rescue Missions, possible kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apricae/pseuds/apricae
Summary: It wasn't the rescue Obi-Wan had expected when he was caught by some pretty mean-spirited pirates - at all. But perhaps it's not so bad after all.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Hondo Ohnaka
Comments: 22
Kudos: 102
Collections: 2020 Obi-Wan Kenobi Gen Exchange





	i guess this could be worse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fyrefly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyrefly/gifts).



“Well, well, well… Would you look at that.”

Through the daze that came with a mild concussion, Obi-Wan felt a flicker of surprise. That voice was familiar. Very, very familiar. And not at all the voice he had expected after the ship he was on had suddenly rumbled to a halt in what he could only assume was open space.

“A Jedi! I didn’t know you people dealt with pirates! Oh wait - I did.”

 _Dealing_ wasn’t at all the word Obi-Wan would have used, seeing as he was in binders and thoroughly beaten and - until this moment - headed for what he could only assume was some nasty slave market, or worse, a Separatist prison cell. But he wasn’t about to mince words with Hondo Ohnaka of all people, much less with his head pounding so fiercely. 

“Hello,” he said instead, trying for polite as he squinted at the pirate through the gloom of the deserted brig. The guard he spotted on the floor in a heap just beyond the open door spilling light in from the corridor beyond.

“Hello, yes, hello,” Hondo replied, antsy, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Can you stand, Master Jedi?”

Could he? An interesting question. He found that indeed he could, even if his hip was creaking and his bruised knee protested. Upright after hours spent cross-legged on the cold metal floor, he raised an inquiring eyebrow. 

“Good! Good. Can you walk, too? I think these pleasant fellows are going to be done with their little nap soon.”

“I believe I can, but pardon- Walk _where_ , exactly?”

Hondo looked offended for a moment, sniffing.

“Why, to my ship, of course!”

“To be further used as a bargaining chip? I don’t think so.” He cracked his aching neck lightly, still squinting against the light and trying to figure out if Hondo held a blaster to him yet or not.

“Now, now,” the Weequay said, putting on an even further offended tone. “Do you think so little of me, Master Kenobi? After all we’ve been through together? Can a man not rescue his dear friend out of the goodness of his heart?”

“In my experience, no,” he replied, deadpan.

“Well, you’re right of course, there might be a little _fee_ for my services in taking you back to the Republic…”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, then regretted it as a fresh wave of pain swelled through his skull. He was, really, too tired for this. 

“Come come, Master Kenobi. We can… _Discuss business_ later. If you want to go, now is the moment.”

Did he? With his foes at a disadvantage, he could find his lightsaber and- 

Oh, of course. It was dangling from Hondo’s belt.

“All right,” he conceded, leaving behind his spot on the floor, gesturing with his still bound hands. “Lead the way.”

For once, the pirate held true to his word - his ship was docked with the pirate vessel, and Hondo bowed theatrically and gestured for him to enter. Less theatrically, he did, still trying to avoid limping on his swollen knee. 

“And bye-bye, pirates!” Hondo said cheerfully, releasing the docking clamp and waltzing to the cockpit, Obi-Wan following at a more tempered pace. He frowned, realizing the ship was entirely empty save for the two of them; The Weequay had come alone, all the way out here, to intercept the crew who had taken Obi-Wan captive. It gave him pause.

“Come, sit,” Hondo goaded from the galley a moment after the ship hummed its way into hyperspace. Obedient, he followed, curiosity budding as he found a sort of seating area with a low, round table and what looked like an open medkit. 

“Ah! There you are.” 

“Yes,” he replied, baffled, and sat - for a lack of better things to do - perched on the edge of a cushioned bench. Hondo stood before him, almost wringing his hands awkwardly as the silence dragged out. 

“You, ah… Looked like you could use some bacta,” Hondo ventured, “so I fetched some.”

“How kind,” Obi-Wan replied, blinking, meaning it. “Do you have a mirror?”

“Uh, hm, no. I don’t. Unfortunate.”

Hondo sniffed again, then pulled a low ottoman out from beneath the table and scooted his way closer, reaching for the medkit. “I will simply have to do it myself,” he pronounced, rummaging idly through the contents, shooting Obi-Wan a hesitant glance. 

Still befuddled by the sudden rescue and now taken aback by Hondo’s uncharacteristic generosity, Obi-Wan took a moment to ponder his unlikely savior. There was no rhyme or reason to it, really; Hondo had very little to gain by going out of his way to locate and pluck Obi-Wan from his captors’ clutches, even if the Republic decided to give in and pay a ransom - which, from experience, they would not. More likely they’d send another Jedi (Anakin was presumably at home, already chafing to go after his wayward master on a breakneck rescue mission) and Hondo would be lucky to escape with his ship and his life. There was no profit to be had here.

All in all… Out of character. Unusual. Unlikely. 

“You’re thinking so loud I can hear it, and my hearing isn’t what it was,” Hondo complained. “Now close your eyes, eh? Let Hondo do his magic.”

 _Magic_ turned out to be a damp washcloth and some sterilizing gel for the cuts at his hairline and cheekbone, applied with surprising gentleness. The Weequay’s hands were leathery and calloused but careful as they nudged his head to the side, plastering a bacta patch on the gash beneath his ear where he’d earlier on become uncomfortably acquainted with a vibroblade.

“There! All better,” Hondo declared triumphantly.

“Thank you,” he muttered, still puzzled. “But, tell me - What’s in this for you? Not that I’m complaining, just… Why bother?”

To his continuing surprise, Hondo grimaced, something angry crossing his leathery face as he packed the medkit back up again. 

“The crew who took you,” he began, “Psh. They’re nothing but petty minions for their boss, the _worst_ kind of double-crossing-” He stopped, seeming to hold back a furious tirade. “They’d have delivered you to Dooku and then just as quickly stolen you back to sell out in slavery, or worse. We aren’t always on the same side, Kenobi, but…”

The pirate sighed. 

“They have no _honour_. No spirit. They don’t even serve themselves.” He wrinkled his already-wrinkly nose. “Believe me, any time I can put bantha shit in their fuel tank, well, I like to take the opportunity.”

There was something else there. Something old, something poorly healed and leaking resentment. Obi-Wan didn’t prod it - kind gesture or not, he was still in binders and Hondo still had his lightsaber at his hip. He only wondered, mildly, what story lay behind this sudden, uncustomary kindness.

Hondo stood, stretched, casually tossed him a pack of painkillers.

“You should lie down, eh, Kenobi? You might be clean now but you still look like you’ve been, hm, amorously embraced by a Gundark.” He was easing back to the confident, theatrical pirate now. “I’ll be in the cockpit, deciding if I want to ransom you or not when we get to Republic space.”

“How kind of you to still be considering it,” Obi-Wan replied drily. “Are you planning on keeping the lightsaber?”

“Meh,” Hondo shrugged. “For a little while, anyway. You won’t be needing it when you’re napping, will you?”

He supposed not. He also supposed Hondo would not like to even chance an unpleasant encounter with that familiar blue blade - fair enough, really. When Obi-Wan did not reply, his unlikely ally wandered away, leaving him to slip into a light meditative trance, head full of questions. 

In the end, he didn’t know if he’d ever fully discover the many facets of captain Hondo Ohnaka. Oddly, he found he was content not to. Scratching the surface was plenty interesting enough for many lifetimes.


End file.
